Remain
by twinkle.of.a.fading.star
Summary: Elphaba was dead, but Glinda couldn't stop living. One-shot


**Well…we can't all come and go by bubble. That's all I've got to say. **

**Oh! Wait! One more thing! Dear Kristen Chenoweth: Your one of my favorite people ever…because I know your totally reading this. Love, me. **

**And, I don't own Wicked. But I'm sure you knew that I wasn't Stephen Schwartz (or Gregory Maguire)**

Remain  
A Wicked One-Shot

It was always a day for celebration.

Every year, there were celebrations, remembering the time that all of Oz was finally freed from the…well…wickedness of the Wicked Witch of the West. The festivities lasted for days. As far as the citizens of Oz knew, Glinda the Good couldn't be happier.

That was a lie. It all was, although they didn't and would never know it. Glinda's happiness was just one untruth amongst a world of untruths. But she had to keep up appearances, so Glinda was paraded to party after party. Half the time she had to leave, for fear of bursting into tears during all the speeches about the witches finally being vanquished.

It _hurt. _It hurt more than going back to Shiz without Elphaba. It hurt more than the moment she realized Fiyero had never loved her. It hurt more than the day Elphaba died.

It hurt because then she could show her sadness and anger. Now, she has to hide it behind smiles and toasts of commemoration and more makeup than she's ever worn in her entire life. She has to pretend to be _happy _at the fact that her best friend is _dead._

There are days when she still can't believe all of this happened. Mornings when she wakes up, and before opening her eyes and facing another day, she expects to be back at her dormitory at Shiz.

_She almost expects to face a long day of pretending to listening to her professors, when really she'll draw sketches of her wedding dress, and plan the guest list for her a Fiyero's wedding. Elphaba would catch her up later, and scowl when Glinda complained about having to find bridesmaids dresses to complement Elphaba's skin tone. _

"_Well Galinda, remember what you said…pink goes good with green." _

"_Of course Elphie! Pink bridesmaid's dresses! Your brilliant! But…light pink or dark pink? Sparkles or no sparkles?" _

"_Now that you'll have to decide for yourself," _

"_Definitely sparkles! …You will be in the wedding won't you?"_

_Elphaba hesitates, "As long as you don't mind that the fact that you have a green bridesmaid will get far more attention than the actually ceremony," _

In her mind, she sees herself opening her pink notebook to show Elphaba her dress sketches. _"Do you see this dress Elphie? My entire wedding party could be purple with pink polka dots and it wouldn't take any attention away." _In her half-asleep state, Glinda frowns at how self-centered she sounds.

"_Galinda…with that dress you won't be able to fit through the door." _

...Eventually Glinda finally opens her eyes and faces the world. She has to go on. To get out of bed every day, and do something _good._ She can't live in this dream world forever. She can't live in the past. No even if she wanted to.

You see, Glinda the Good has a few secrets. Her best friend was the Wicked Witch of the West (scandalacious, I know) And before Elphaba died, Glinda promised her something. Something she thinks about and vows to live by every day.

"_Glinda…promise me you won't try to clear my name." _

She didn't want to. She wanted to tell everyone the truth. She didn't want everyone to think of Elphaba as wicked forever, when in truth she was everything but.

"_Elphie, I can't do that. I can't watch them hate you forever." _

"_They'll turn against you too, you know that." _

"_I don't care!" _That was true, for the first time in her life Glinda no longer cared what anyone said or felt about her.

"_I do. You can do much more than run your entire life. You can make a difference Glinda. Don't you realize that?"_

"_I can't Elphaba. I'm not you,"_

"_You don't have to be, your Glinda the Good." _

She never tried to clear Elphaba name. She kept her promise, and would always. It was the least she could do. If it was what Elphaba wanted.

"_You've got to do this, or no one else will. It's up to you now, for both of us."_

So yes, she is forces to hide behind thousands of smoke and mirrors. But, Elphaba's determined voice forces her to carry on every day. It was her reason for living. To carry on Elphaba's goodness. To earn her title as Glinda the Good. To do something other than wear pretty gowns.

Elphaba was dead, but Glinda couldn't stop living.


End file.
